almost love actually
by Aesha
Summary: ‹WIP› Meet Kinomoto Sakura. She's a bit of a romantic – a nutcase one might even say – and she has her heart set on love. Cue Li Syaoran: He's a rising actor and she's jailbait. Enough said.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Card Captor Sakura, or its characters—CLAMP does. Story is inspired by actual events, although the characters are purely fictional and in no way a representation of actual persons, living or dead. -coughcough-

**Warning**: It's not an Aesha story if the characters aren't OOC. Very (not so) subtle fangirling. fic is parody-ish. Emphasis on the _ish_.

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「 almost «love» actually 」

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**ALMOST**love  
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_Word Count_: ~19,000

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"_In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed_." Oh heavens. This is just so surreal—him reciting the lines I have committed to memory. God knows how many times I have dreamed of a guy (namely Colin Firth) saying those very words to me.

Wait. Isn't this the part where Mr. Darcy proposes to Elizabeth and gets rejected? _Psh_, stupid Elizabeth. I shall not be so cruel to stomp on the poor man's heart if he proposes to me.

Wait, again. Is Syaoran going to confess his feelings to me?

He's twenty, I'm fifteen (sixteen in four months)—that's legal to date, right? Oh, I hope so! But if not then that's perfectly fine, too. The two of us can weather any storm if we're in love, and I am—_definitely_—so in love. I alone can keep our love boat afloat.

He holds my hands and, I swear, I almost turn to jelly.

"Sakura…"

I love the way he says my name. His voice is so husky and deep; it's the very epitome of manliness.

"You must allow me to tell you—" He pauses and looks into my eyes, and in that moment, I pray to God to make my eyes sparkle like the sun and put this Prince under my spell (although I doubt the big guy upstairs knows any witchcraft).

"—how _fucking_ crazy you are," he finishes.

"W-What?" Unconsciously, I take a step away from him. The back of my knees hit the edge of the bed and I fell backward. How very fitting and symbolic that moment is. "I…I don't understand…"

The door suddenly opens and Syaoran's roommate comes into the room. "Oh good you're awake. The party is getting out of control and I think the neighbor is threatening to call the cops," Eriol says, eyeing me with raised eyebrows over his thick framed glasses. I don't think he recognizes me.

Syaoran starts cursing; he uses words I've never thought possible to put together into the same sentence. What does it even _mean_ to be the son of a goddamn mother fucking donkey balls ass licking bitch?

Eriol continues, "Takashi is trying to talk to the neighbor now but he suggests you get out of here soon if you want to avoid bad press."

"Where's Meiling?" asks Syaoran.

"She doesn't want to leave yet. I have to find a friend and see if he's leaving with us, so I'll meet you at the car. Unless you're not done here…" Eriol's eyes trails back to me.

Syaoran then turns his attention to me as if he suddenly remembers that I am still there; an unattractive scowl on his ever so handsome face. "For God's sake, stand up, Sakura. That dress is too damn short."

Eriol's eyes widen in shock—my name on his lips—the same time that I jump up with a yelp while trying to tug the dress down as much as I can. It didn't look so short when I was still at Tomoyo's place. Could it have shrunk somehow on the way there to here?

Syaoran calls my name again. "Let's go," he says before stomping off.

I quickly chase after him, but I start to lose him in the crowd of partygoers. "Syaoran!" I call out after him. I soon realize he can't hear me over the loud music.

A hand suddenly grabs my arm. Some random guy is pulling me toward him. "Hey cutie," he breathes down my neck. "What's your name?"

Smelling the heavy alcohol on his breath, I squirm away from his touch. "Please let me go," I say more to myself than speaking the guy. "He's going to be mad at me even more if he sees this."

"Who? Your boyfriend?" The stranger doesn't let go of my arm. "Forget about him. No guy should leave such a cute girl by herself."

I groan in my head.

This isn't at all how I've pictured tonight. None of this was supposed to happen. _Ohhh_, I should've listened to Tomoyo. Blast Tomoyo! Why is she always right?

O—o—x—o—O

Two months ago

O—o—x—o—O

"Isn't he so dreamy?" I say, holding out the magazine in my hands. It's the Teen-Zeen magazine, and on page 18 is the face of Adonis—though he is more commonly known in this day and age as Li Syaoran. Age: 20. Height: 186 cm. Cancer. Chocolate brown hair. Hazelnut eyes. Straight white teeth. High cheekbones. Tall nose. Broad chin. Toned, muscled body, with a six pack to boot, not to mention he also has a cute, round buttock. He is perfection.

My best friend, Tomoyo, looks up from whatever she's doing and shrugs slightly. "If you're into guys like that. Then, sure, I guess."

I sit up on the bed and look at her in horror. "How can you not like him!?"

"I didn't say I don't like him," she says, rolling her eyes at my overreaction. "I merely meant he's not my cup of tea. And you're so overly obsessed with this guy, you'll probably bite my head off if I show an ounce of interest in him."

I beam in her direction. "I love you, Tomoyo!"

"Remind me again,"—she tucks a pillow under her chin—"_why_ are you so quote-unquote in love with this guy?"

I start to count the reasons on my hands and Tomoyo regrets ever asking.

"One, he's handsome as sin. Two, I love his smile. Have you seen him smile? His smile can warm the coldest winter days! Three, his body is like art. His entire being is a masterpiece, God's greatest creation. Four, he's really sweet and funny and nice and smart. Follow some of his interviews and you'll know what I mean. Five, he's originally from Tomoeda. I _have_ to support someone from our hometown! It's practically _treasonous_ if I don't! Six, he played Mr. Darcy in a modern theater adaptation of Pride and Prejudice last year and he was positively amazing. Granted, he's no Colin Firth, but I don't think anyone can top Colin Firth so it's an unfair comparison really. And since Colin Firth is old enough to be my father, I have to go for the next best thing."

Tomoyo bursts into a fit of laughter. "Oh wouldn't he be flattered to hear that you're _settling_ for him!"

"He doesn't have to know, Tomoyo," I say, pouting. "So don't tell him, okay?"

"Sakura, that is beyond the point. You know I love you, right? And I say this out of love: _Please_ don't invest so much interest in this Li Syaoran. What are the chances of him noticing ordinary girls like us? Not that you aren't noticeable, because you _are_ very pretty. But you're _fifteen_. I don't think he'll be looking at 15-year-old girls, unless he wants to go to prison."

"Age matters not when it comes to love," I grumble. "Darcy is like eight years older than Lizzie. I'm turning sixteen in six months, so the age difference between Syaoran and me is only four."

"It's technically five years. He turns twenty-one three months after you turn sixteen. And you can't compare yourself to fictional characters. He _played_ Mr. Darcy, Sakura—he _isn't_ Mr. Darcy. There is no Mr. Darcy. The man you love doesn't exist. The Li Syaoran you love probably doesn't even exist either, and is merely a masterful creation of his agency and publicists."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say to her anymore. "You're probably right. You're always right."

Tomoyo sighs heavily. "Sakura, I'm sorry—I don't know what came over me. I think I'm just stressed out because of midterms."

"Do you need help studying? I can help you with any subject that isn't math. I've already accepted my fate—I'm going to flunk math and never amount to anything in the future. I'm never going to be accepted into college, and if I do, then I'm going to flunk math in college too, and then I'm never going to find a job. Because, apparently, you need math to succeed in life."

Tomoyo laughs. "That's why you should marry this Li Syaoran. Then you can live the luxurious life of a housewife while I suffer working from 9 to 5, five days a week."

"I know you don't actually mean what you say," I say, "but I love you for humoring me."

Tomoyo pulls me into an embrace. "Oh, Sakura, you're so in love with love, it's almost unbearable dealing with you sometimes."

"Touya calls me foolish while my father tells me I'm imaginative. I think I like your definition of me best. But anyway. I'll shut up and let you get back to what you were doing."

Tomoyo returns her attention to the notebook before her, and I go back to reading about the love of my life. _Li Syaoran…born on July 13, 1991…blah blah blah_. I already knew all of that. _Starred in so and so drama_ yadda yadda yadda. _Single_—THANK GOD. Okay, the article is going nowhere.

I steal a glance at Tomoyo. She's writing something in the notebook, her hand moving at the speed of light.

"What _are_ you doing, by the way?" I ask.

"Studying for history," she answers without looking up or stopping what she's doing. "I'm writing out everything I know and afterwards, I'll compare what I've written down to my notes and see what I need to focus on."

"I'm impressed with your thinking, Tomoyo!"

"I'm more impressed with that brain of yours. You soak information in like a sponge and you never have to study."

"Sponges must hate mathematics then. And my brain isn't all that impressive. I merely remember facts."

Touya is always telling me I'm a waste of good genetics. Eighty percent of my brain comprises of nothing but quotes from romance novels—and of that eighty percent, thirty is of Pride and Prejudice. I can probably recite the story word for word; like seriously, not even kidding.

Judging from Tomoyo's silence, I assume she has gone back to her studying so I go back to my article, skimming through most of it since I already know _most_ things about Li Syaoran. I research him religiously. If he knows this fact, he would probably feel a little freaked out.

Just when I think the article can't be any more boring, something catches my eyes, and I swear, for a minute I stop breathing.

"Oh, my God. Ohmygod! Oh my _freaking_ God!" I jump off the bed, and what started as excitement quickly turns into something else entirely. Hyperventilation. "Oh…my…God!"

"Sakura, what's wrong?" Tomoyo is now at my side, patting my back and telling me to take deep breaths and whatnots.

"Tomoyo…" I look at my best friend with dire distress in my eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"What's wrong?" she asks again.

"He's coming… He's taking a break from filming to continue his education…_here_, in Tomoeda. He'll be going to Tomoeda University!"

"That's…good, right?"

"NO! NO! It's terrible!" I start crying. "At least when he's filming, he's busy with work. But now he'll be surrounded by girls _all the freaking time! _COLLEGE GIRLS! It's not fair, Tomoyo! Those girls are going to have bigger breasts than me! Like…grapefruits and cantaloupes!"

"Sakura, stop your crying," Tomoyo commands, annoyance etched in her voice.

Then something strikes me. "Maybe he doesn't like big breasts!"

"There are college girls with small breasts." Tomoyo doesn't realize what she's just blurted out loud till I start to cry again. "For all you know, he might prefer boys."

And I stop crying.

I've never thought of it that way. _Did_ my Syaoran like boys? I mean, he has fan boys…and he hasn't dated any girls (that I know of at least). He crosses his legs a lot _and_ he uses skincare products. Not that I'm making a generalization between those things and being gay. Oh, darn it!

Tomoyo grabs my shoulders and shakes me. "Snap out of it, Sakura! Please stop thinking, you're starting to smoke."

"You're right, Tomoyo. I can't lose hope now!" I exclaim loudly. "The path of true love never runs smooth. I will go on even if I have to limp along that path in new boots that are chafing my heels. Even if I get blistered and cut, red and raw, every hopping, lopsided step, a little slice of agony."

"Huh?"

"Rachel's Holiday by Marian Keyes," I say.

"Oh, Sakura, what am I to do with you?"

"You know what? I blame mathematics. Freaking stupid math. If it weren't for the stupid subject, I could be skipping grades already and by now I could be attending Tomoeda and wooing the love of my life!"

"_Wooing_?"

"Ah forget it!" I throw the magazine into the trash can. "I'm going home to cry my heart out. If you don't see me at school tomorrow, it's because I've decided to end my miserable life."

Tomoyo smiles at my theatrics. "Don't forget to study for your exams."

I grab my backpack and swing it over my shoulder. "What's the point anyway? My life is now meaningless."

Tomoyo walks me downstairs. "You don't want to be grounded again, do you?"

True. Touya forbade me to go anywhere for three weeks when I scored a single digit on my math exam last time. If I do just as terrible on this exam, he might ground me for three months. In my household, my brother does the disciplining; I don't even want to know what my father's punishments are.

"If I die tonight, I won't have to worry about being grounded," I say.

"Sakura—" Tomoyo gives me her sternest look. "—study."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, reluctantly, and trudge all the way home with a dark cloud looming over my head.

Life sucks.

O—o—x—o—O

Life is wonderful!

The first thing I did when I came home and saw _him_ sitting in my living room was to pounce on him like a predator would to a prey.

My father and some brown-haired woman I do not know have been trying to pry me off for the past five minutes, though not having much luck. I am never, ever letting go.

Have I mentioned that I'm never letting go?

Because I am never, ever letting go. EVER.

"Sakura, honey, let go," my father begs.

Does my father not realize how _monumental_ this moment is for me? I, Kinomoto Sakura, am _touching_ Li Syaoran—not just touching him, but freaking HUGGING him! I have been in love with this guy for one year, two hundred and sixty-eight days. The stars are finally lining up for me. This is fate, I tell you. We are meant to be.

I mean, just an hour ago I was so close to going into a depression at the thought of him being surrounded by college boobies and possibly being gay—wait. This doesn't change anything. He's _still_ going to be surrounded by college boobies, and I still don't know if he prefers men.

I stop squeezing his waist like he's my teddy bear and look him in the eye. "Are you gay?" I ask.

"_What_?!" he nearly barks.

I smile. "I'm going to take that reaction as a no then." And I resume my squeezing.

He feels wonderful, just like I knew he would. And he smells wonderful, too.

Reason number seven why I love Li Syaoran: He smells amazing.

O—o—x—o—O

"You look positively happy today," Tomoyo notes the next morning at school.

"The most amazing thing happened yesterday," I say. "I'll tell you at lunch."

She looks at me warily. "Did you study?"

Studying was the furthest thing from my mind yesterday. I was on cloud nine. I've decided that I'm never going to wash the clothes that I wore yesterday so I can preserve Syaoran's magnificent scent.

I was eventually pulled off of Syaoran by Touya—the darn jerk. I hate my brother. They all told me I had to leave the room, but I stood on the staircase eavesdropping to their conversation.

As it turns out, Syaoran will be finishing his liberal arts degree at Tomoeda University. And whose wonderful father just happens to be the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at Tomoeda University? Yours truly. I don't know quite yet in what way that will work in my favor, but I'm sure I can come up with a couple of ideas—I'm always full of ideas. Not necessarily good ones, but ideas nevertheless.

So during lunch I tell Tomoyo about what happened yesterday. At first she doesn't believe me, but the more she looks at the idiotic grin on my face, the more convinced she becomes.

"I don't believe this," she murmurs in a stupor.

"I know right!"

"I can't believe you just jumped on the poor guy. Sakura, you can't be the crazy one!"

My head perks up at her statement in confusion.

"You know—all celebrities have at least one crazy fan, and after what happened yesterday, Li Syaoran probably thinks you're his crazy fan."

"You think he has a crazy fan?"

"You're completely missing my point. And I'm sure you're not the only girl who's madly in love with the guy."

That has me thinking—crazy fans are generally, well, _crazy_…right? Crazy equals bad, right? I can't let bad people near Syaoran! I have to protect his good virtue!

Oh, and I am _not_ the crazy one.

O—o—x—o—O

As soon as the last school bell rings, I run all the way to the city bus stop and take the bus to the university. Only now I don't know how to proceed with my plan, which is to guard Syaoran's virtue from crazy fans. How am I supposed to do that if I don't know his schedule?

I overheard yesterday that he only has late afternoon and evening classes because he still needs to work during the daytime and there are less students on campus during the evening hours. But what's the use of such information if I don't know what classes he's taking? I can't go look at every classroom at this school to see if he's in it. It'll take forever!

I groan and slump against a park bench nearby. I might as well wait around until my father gets off and go home with him. He'd definitely want to why I've come here, but I can't very well tell him I'm here to protect his future son-in-law's virtue from crazy, horny college girls (and possibly guys). He'd probably send me to Siberia.

Just as I'm contemplating my options, a hand taps my shoulder from behind.

I spin my head around and it takes every shred of control I possess to not jump forward and latch myself on to that body forever.

"Dr. Kinomoto's daughter, right?" he asks. It feels weird to hear someone address my father as 'doctor'. He usually prefers 'Professor Kinomoto' or 'Kinomoto-san'.

I don't tell him that though. Instead, I sit there and nod like a bobblehead doll.

"Are you lost? I'm pretty new here myself, but I do know where your father's office is if you'd like me to show you the way."

Oh, God. He is _so_ nice.

"I'd hate to trouble you," I say. Yes, I know, I should be ashamed of myself. Of course I know where my father's office is. But he doesn't have to know that. Besides, who am I to stop a handsome prince from coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress? For your information—one, I am a damsel; two, I _was_ in distress just ten seconds ago.

"My class doesn't start for another twenty minutes anyway. Plenty of times," he says.

I look at my watch. 4:10.

Kinomoto Sakura, it's time to put that brain of yours to good work.

"Wow. Don't you hate having class so late? Well, at least you'll get to go home soon." I hope he doesn't catch on to what I'm trying to do.

"I wish," he says with a light scoff as we start walking. I don't tell him that we're heading in the wrong direction. "I have two more classes after this one, and I am just starting my day."

His first class starts at 4:30 and two classes after that, with each class last lasting fifty minutes and fifteen minutes break between each class, so his schedule is—

4:30 – 5:20

5:35 – 6:25

6:40 – 7:30

"Let's hope you have interesting professors. But the good news is that if the class size is large enough you can sit in the back and sleep."

He laughs. "I should tell on your father that you're already planning on sleeping in class. The rumor on campus is that Dr. Kinomoto has a genius daughter."

I open my mouth, about to tell him that Touya started the stupid rumor his freshman year because if everyone thought he was the dumb sibling then he didn't have to live up to anybody's expectations, but I decide against it. Syaoran thinks I'm a genius. Why tell him that he's wrong?

"Did you hear this rumor before or _after_ yesterday?"

"Does one make you less of a genius?"

"Sorry about yesterday—the jumping on you and all. I'm a really big fan."

"I figured," he says, chuckling. "Ah, I think we turn right at this corner."

Wrong. Turning here leads to a faculty parking lot.

From the look on his face, I almost want to come clean to him. But my conscience is overpowered by my desire to spend more alone time with him.

"Maybe we should retrace our steps."

He takes my suggestion and we start to retrace our steps—only he takes us in a different direction than the one in which we came, but he doesn't seem to notice, as he starts to ask me what I want to do in the future.

_Be your bride_.

That would most certainly send him running.

"I don't know yet," I say.

"You're still young," he says. "I didn't know what I wanted to do either when I was your age."

"I'm _almost_ sixteen," I tell him; feeling peeved by the words _when-I-was-your-age_.

He feigns amazement. "Very big year indeed!"

"How did you know that you wanted to become an actor?"

"I didn't know. I was originally scouted to be a model, and I thought why the hell not, so I went to Tokyo to study and pursue a modelling career at the same time. Then my agent told me one day to audition for a small role on this show—"

"Hana to Hana! You played the main character's playboy best friend!"

He quirks an eyebrow slightly and asks, "Were you old enough to watch the show?"

I don't want to tell him I was around thirteen when he started his career. It'll only remind him of my age, and I'm hoping to get him to see past that.

"I watched it last year," I say. "I actually didn't know anything about you until last year. I saw the modern theater adaptation of Pride and Prejudice you were involved in, and I immediately fell—felt like I had to look into what other things you've done."

"I'm surprised you're into any of my work," he says. "I thought girls nowadays are into pop culture, boy bands, and romantic dramas, something I avoid like the plague if I can."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Lots of people love your movies and dramas! My best friend—Tomoyo—usually hates action movies but she has enjoyed every one of yours." Of course Tomoyo only watched those movies in the first place because I nearly had to make her every time.

He smiles. "You're flattering me. I'm simply lucky to have been a part of some really great productions. You make me sound like a star, but I haven't _starred_ in anything yet. Just another supporting cast."

"It's true you haven't had a leading role, but Li Syaoran is starting to become a household name," I say. And I notice that he has taken, yet, another wrong turn.

New discovery on Li Syaoran: He can't find his way out of a maze even if there are signs telling him where to go.

I look at my watch.

"It's 4:24," I tell him. "You should head to your class. I can find the way on my own."

Maybe I should walk him to his class. I'm pretty sure the poor guy is going to get himself lost.

"Syaoran!" someone is calling his name from far away. A black-haired guy runs toward us. "Are you lost again?"

"No!" I'm sure he's feeling indignant. "I'm helping Dr. Kinomoto's daughter get to his office."

Syaoran's friend, I'm assuming, laughs. "Oh god, it's like a blind person helping someone cross the street." The friend turns to look at me for the first time, and a huge grin suddenly appears on his face. "I can help you…er, what's your name? My name is Yamazaki Takashi."

"Sakura," I reply.

"Beautiful name for a very beautiful girl." He's still smiling at me, and it's starting to feel a little creepy as his eyes travel down my body. But then he notices the school uniform I'm wearing and he quickly feels abashed for his behavior.

This isn't the first time I've had older guys look at me in the manner that Syaoran's friend did, but only to find out in the end I'm not ripe for the picking. Tomoyo tells me it's my height.

Tallness runs in my family. My father is 184cm tall, my brother towers over most people at 187cm, and I'm a beanpole at 170cm; we're a family of giraffes. Even my mother was in the one-eighty-something range, or so I've been told, so I'm expecting to add a couple of more centimeters by the time I graduate high school. Considering 'tallness' is a family trait, it's no wonder I find myself fancying Syaoran. Have I mentioned his height?

"Are you going to your next class?" Syaoran asks his friend.

"I'm done for the day. On my way to pick up Chiharu."

"You'll help Sakura find her father then?"

"Sure." Takashi looks at me again, though this time without all the stars in his eyes. Boys are so typical. "What class do you have next?"

And Yamazaki Takashi becomes one of my favorite people in this world.

"Urban sociology," Syaoran replies with a grimace. "Then philosophy and intro to rhetoric."

"Fun. See you downtown tonight?"

"I don't know man. I've had a long day."

"Oh c'mon! We have to celebrate the gang getting back together. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

"Fine." Syaoran then turns to me and says, "Nice to see you again, Sakura."

"This time less suffocating than the last?"

He laughs and ruffles my hair. I watch him dart off—gosh, his running form is majestic.

"OTHER DIRECTION!" Takashi yells when Syaoran chooses to go left at the fork with the big horse statue.

Takashi and I watch Syaoran with amusement and chagrin. How could a person be _so_ bad with directions?

"He probably can't find his way out of a linen closet, huh?" I muse out loud.

"…probably." Takashi sighs when Syaoran disappears and then reappears into our sight. He could just come back to where we're standing or call out to Takashi for directions.

"You should help him. I know how to find my father's office."

Takashi regards me with a questioning look.

"I'm a big fan," I say.

Takashi then chuckles. "Sneaky girl."

"The rumor around campus is that I'm a genius."

"I like you. Well, it was nice meeting you, Sakura."

"It was nice meeting you, too." I wave him off with a smile.

A friend of Syaoran _likes_ me! If I can get his friends to like then I'm bound to be a shoo-in with the guy himself. At least now I know what his classes are, I can look online at the master schedule and figure out _where_ the classes are located.

I can already sense the wheels turning in my head.

O—o—x—o—O

It takes every bit of creativity I have to come up with different excuses as to why I'm _always_ bumping into Syaoran on campus, like literally bumping into him. And that leads to my current dilemma: I'm running out of ideas.

For a month now, I've been using the carrying too many books excuse, running around the corner excuse, tripping on my own foot excuse, slipping at the bottom of the stairs excuse (which I do not recommend to anyone, because it _really_ hurts)—I definitely need to come up with something new soon. Syaoran has started to remark how clumsy I am, and that isn't the kind of image I want him to have of me.

You'd think having read so many romance novels, my head would be chock full of ideas. If only we were living in the British eighteenth century; all I would need to do then is make sure he and I are caught in a compromising situation and we'd be married by the next morning.

What to do? What…to…do…

"Kaijuu!" My brother chooses this moment to stomp into my room like a fire breathing dragon. "You scored a 54 on your math midterm?!"

Aw crap. And I was hoping he wouldn't find it.

"You have to admit though, that's a whole lot better than the seven points I scored on my final last term," I say. "You told me to do better next time—and I _did_ do better!"

"Well, do A LOT better next time," he growls. "And what's this I hear about you going to the university every day after school?"

"I'm spending time with otousan." I'm not lying per se. I do spend a little time with my father whenever I go there. I just spend a lot more time hanging outside Syaoran's classrooms and following him around, waiting for the perfect moment to 'bump' into him. Touya doesn't need to know all of that though.

"Why?" Touya looks at me suspiciously.

"Why are you always home nowadays?" I ask instead. "Go back to your dorm!"

"No way. I'm not going back till what-his-name moves out."

"Who?"

Touya points to the poster hanging on the wall above my bed.

I jump off the bed and cling to him for dear life before he knows what hits him. "Syaoran is staying in your dorm!?"

Touya rolls his eyes and pushes me off with ease. "Oh right. I forgot you're almost as crazy as those other girls."

"What other girls?"

"The ones who try to sneak into the dormitory. Something about getting a lock of his hair, his underwear, or sneaking up on him while he's sleeping, some bat crazy shit like that. Can you believe these girls?"

No, I cannot. How _dare_ them!? Although, it is a pretty good idea—sneaking into his room and taking some mementos. Except for the lock of hair—now that's just crazy.

"Should he be staying in the dormitory then?" I wonder.

"He wanted to stay in the dormitory while his agent finds him a permanent place."

"How do you know?"

"I'm his residential advisor."

"I see that you're doing a fine job."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, little sister. Besides,"—my brother smirks—"how can you accuse me of slacking off if no one else knows?"

"What do you mean no one else knows?"

"I'm going to take a nap. Don't disturb me."

I childishly stick my tongue at him. "As if I'd want to be around you!"

…Or do I?

I quickly grab a coat and scarf from my closet. "I'm going to Tomoyo's!"

O—o—x—o—O

You've probably guessed that I'm not going to Tomoyo's place, and that you can smell disaster brewing in the air. _Well_…!

…you are correct in your assumption.

I approach the front desk to Touya's dorm and greet the assistant, "Hi, I'm looking for my brother—Touya. Kinomoto Touya. He's the RA for the fourth floor."

"I'm sorry, I can't let you into the dorm without your _brother_ here to sign you in," the guy says; apparently he does not know of me.

"Can I show you identification, like a student ID, to prove that I am who I say am? I can even get my father on phone."

"Dr. Kinomoto will have to come here in person." Wow, he's a stubborn one.

So much for my plan.

I contemplate how I can get past the desk assistant. I mean, he's stuck in a walled room. If I block the door with a chair or something he won't be able to get out. I think…?

"Sakura?"

Turning my head, I am greeted by a familiar face. "Takashi!"

"What are you standing here for?" he asks.

"I need to get something from my brother. He says to drop by whenever today and pick it up, but he's not answering his phone. I think he fell asleep. And I can't go up there. You know, _rules_." I should seriously consider a career in acting. _Oooh!_ Syaoran and I can be like a power couple!

Takashi then turns to the desk assistant and says, "Do you _really_ want to deal with Touya's wrath?"

The other boy appears hesitant.

"Don't worry, she's harmless. You can take my word for it."

The assistant hands me a guest pass. "I suggest you wear it where it's easily visible, or people might think you're trying to sneak into the building."

I feign ignorance. "Who would try to sneak into a boy's dorm?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Takashi chuckles.

"Well, thank you so much for your help!" I give him a brief hug; which, by the way, feels kind of weird because he and I are just about the same height. "I honestly thought I'd have to stand here and wait all day for Touya. You're the best!"

Like, seriously, he is the best.

"Aren't you glad the head residential advisor came along?" He winks at me playfully.

"It's good to know big people in high places," I say.

"Alright. I gotta run. Take care, kiddo." He ruffles my hair as he walks by.

Okay he has gone from being the best to being the worst in 3.5 seconds. He has helped me out though, so I will let the 'kiddo' comment slide just this once.

I wear the guest pass around my shoulder and skip all the way up four flights of stairs. My bubble doesn't burst until I am actually on the fourth floor and I suddenly realize, I do not know which room is Syaoran's.

"Oh blast!" I curse.

Okay. Think, Sakura. What can you do?

I can knock on each and every door. But then what will I say if the person isn't Syaoran, and what will I say if the person _is_ him?

Think, Sakura, think!

A light bulb goes off in my head. I approach the first door on the right; bringing my knuckles to the door, I lightly rap against the surface. A second later the door opens.

Nope. Definitely not Syaoran.

"Sorry to bother you," I make sure to say as sweetly as possible, "but I'm looking for my brother. Do you know where Touya is?"

Who would've thought that Touya's name would come in so handy?

"If he's not sleeping in his room, you might find him in the library. He's usually sleeping in the anthropology section."

I'm starting to wonder if this is the reason why Touya insisted (rather adamantly, too) on living in the dorms when our house is already so close to the university—so he can slack off without our father noticing.

I thank the person and move on to the next room. And the next, and the next, and the next. One room after another, till there's only one left. It _has_ to be the one by process of elimination.

I knock on the door and step back, quickly straightening my appearance.

The doorknob turns, and my breath hitches. I can feel my heart beating faster.

"May I help you?" the person asks.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. How can this be? I've knocked on every door on this floor! Touya said that he is Syaoran's RA, so Syaoran has to live on this floor! So where the hell is he?!

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm looking for Touya," I say, remembering myself. "Do you know where he is?"

"Hey, Ryo. You know where our RA is?" the boy asks over his shoulder. He opens the door wider, revealing another boy in the room, and I see the inside of the room. This room is very different from Touya's room—Touya only has one bed in his room, but this room has two beds and two desks.

"I don't know, the damn library again?" grumbles the other boy.

"Sorry, we don't know."

"Ah, okay, thank you."

The door closes as I turn to leave.

_Great_. What now, genius? Clearly, everyone who isn't the residential advisor shares a room with another person, so that means Syaoran is behind one of those doors I've already knocked on. Just great. Not like I can knock on those doors again. (And you're probably thinking: hey, genius, he could've gone out. Well, hush your mouth.)

"Oh, no…" I say, feeling Mother Nature calling. Now would be a great time for Touya to be here. Because the bathrooms in this building all are communal, Touya usually kicks everyone out while I take care of my business. I'm not going to lie, it feels sort of nice whenever my brother does things like that.

So as I'm walking to the bathroom, I notice a figure wearing a hoodie running inside, and immediately my suspicion meter goes up. No doubt one of those crazy fangirls have breached security. Wait…does this mean Syaoran is in the bathroom?

My bladder becomes the least of my worries and I start running for the bathroom as soon as my mind registers what a scandalous situation this is.

There's no one in the bathroom though when I get there. All the stalls are empty and no one is using the urinals. Really, you'd think I'd have enough common sense to look before barging in. What if someone _was_ at the urinals? And having realized this, you'd think I'd be smart enough to walk away. But no…I refuse to leave until I'm assured that my Syaoran's virtue is not in danger.

I head for the back room where the showers are located, and I see the hoodie person tip-toeing toward one of the showers with a camera in their hand. The person whirls around as if suddenly aware of my presence. My suspicion was correct—it _is_ a girl! She holds an index finger to her lips to tell me to be quiet. I think she thinks I have the same motives as she does; which, I do not. _If_ Syaoran is indeed in that shower, I would never stoop so low as to peek at him, no matter how much I want to see his glorious body.

The girl approaches the shower and I move to put myself in her way. 'Move!' she mouths to me.

'No!' I mouth back.

She actually tries to push me aside and as she does she learns that I'm not one to go down quite easily. Pushing and shoving quickly turns into scratching and kicking and hair pulling (from my part anyway).

The girl lets out a scream. "_You bitch_!"

Syaoran's head pops out from behind the shower curtain at the same time that the girl shoves me with considerable force and I'm sent flying backwards. I try to regain my balance to no avail. The girl runs off, and me…? Well, luckily Syaoran has quick reflexes and I am saved from falling flat on my ass and embarrassing myself in front of him.

He steadies me onto my feet.

I open my mouth to thank him but he puts a hand over my mouth. We hear faint voices coming from the adjacent room, and the voices are getting more hearable.

I see the panic in Syaoran's eyes right before he grabs my wrist and pulls me into the shower stall with him.

We hear whoever is outside says, "What's so great about him anyway? He only has his looks."

I think the person is talking about Syaoran. Judging from the dark look in Syaoran's eyes, I feel like he's thinking the same thing.

"And what will he do with a degree?" says another voice. "This is just a publicity stunt."

My blood boils from hearing the bad things they say about my Syaoran. Forget propriety! I want to go out there and give them a piece of my mind!

Wet hair suddenly starts falling all over my face, and I realize that I've been standing under the running water. I try to step back but there's no way to avoid getting soaked without turning off the water, which would mean that Syaoran would need to get out and the guys out there can easily discover me in here thinking that the stall is unoccupied. And my wool coat isn't making the situation any better.

I almost yelp when Syaoran suddenly pulls me into his chest. The running water is now hitting him mostly. With my face buried against his chest, I begin to realize how _naked_ he is. Oh, god. I look up at him.

He is _so_ beautiful.

I don't see stubbles on his face, or any sign of hair coming in. Good. I don't like guys with facial hair.

His lips look a lot fuller in real life than onscreen and in pictures. I would never have thought that one day I'll find some sort of _delight_ in a guy's Adam's apple, but as I stand here gazing at Syaoran's, I have this urge to lick and bite it. And he has such broad shoulders. I push away from him a little to give myself a better view of his chest.

On a side note, I'm very jealous of his small, rosy nipples.

And then there's his abs…oh gosh…I really want to touch it.

I doubt there's an ounce of fat on his body.

My eyes dare to venture lower (I close my eyes at this point)...and lower…I allow one eye to open and _oh my_—Syaoran immediately raises my head. He puts a hand over the back of my head and holds my head to his chest; his chin fitting perfectly over the top of my head as he whispers, loud enough for my ears only, "Don't you dare."

I grin. I won't tell him that I _did_ dare.

I let out a soft giggle, and he curses under his breath, "Jesus _fuck_!"

O—o—x—o—O

"I put your clothes in the dryer," says Syaoran's roommate, who has introduced himself as Hiiragizawa Eriol, as he hands me a warm cup of tea. I am sitting on Syaoran's bed, wearing his clothes, with his blanket wrapped around me—this is, by far, the greatest day of my life.

When the shower room was empty again, Syaoran quickly put his clothes back on (after telling me to face the wall that is) and carefully snuck me into his dorm room. I told him that I could just go home and he said, '_You'll turn into a human ice cube in this weather.'_ He let me borrowed his shirt and boxers, and when I wouldn't stop shivering, he wrapped his blanket around me.

Number eight why I love Li Syaoran: He is very caring.

I look at Eriol gratefully. "T-T-Thank y-you." I still can't speak without my teeth chattering.

Eriol smiles at me before turning to look at Syaoran, who has disappeared under Eriol's covers. I think he's sulking.

"I d-didn't s-s-see any-t-t-thing," I say. Well, I saw _some_ things but not the _whole_ thing. Does that make sense?

Syaoran growls from under the cover. "Sakura, _shut up_."

Yup. He's definitely sulking.

I find it rather _cute_.

O—o—x—o—O

I haven't seen Syaoran in nearly two weeks. Touya and my father would not let me go anywhere except for school and back into bed until my cold has completely gone away. God must hate me if he's making me suffer through a cold for this long.

"Otousan, I can't stay in bed another minute!" I whine to my father. "I'm better now, I swear!"

"Sounds like your nose is still congested," he remarks coolly; not even bothering to look up from the papers on his desk.

"I'm not going to die from a congested nose," I say. "Please let me go out!"

"_Not_ until you get better." My father can be just as dictatorial as my brother when he wants to be.

"Well, can I at least sleep over at Tomoyo's place for the weekend?"

"Tomoyo can come over here."

Oh darn it!

"Otousan, I've been in my room for two weeks! You and Touya haven't let me do _anything_—like literally! I think I might go crazy. Can I _please_ go hang out with Tomoyo?"

"What's wrong with hanging out at our place?"

"It's more fun at the Daidouji's place. Sonomi lets us try on her latest designs and everything. Please, Otousan?" I put on my best puppy dog expression. "Pretty, pretty please?"

"Alright, but—"

I run to hug before he can finish his sentence.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"But only if it's okay with Tomoyo's mother. It isn't polite to impose."

"I've already asked her," I say. I haven't asked Tomoyo's mother yet, but I'm not too hung up on that detail.

Sonomi is, no doubt, the coolest mom ever. She's a fashion designer; her clothes have been worn by a number of celebrities, on and off the red carpet. She and my mother used to be best friends, and so she loves that Tomoyo and I are best friends as well. My mother passed away when I was young so I don't remember much about her but Sonomi tells me about her all the time, to which I'm grateful. One time, when Tomoyo and I were still in preschool, we thought of making my father and her mother marry each other so she and I could truly become sisters. That hadn't gone so well. Her mother really dislikes my father for some reason. We still don't know why today.

"Is Touya home?" my father asks.

"He is, but he's working on a research paper."

"Ah, okay. I'll drive you to Tomoyo's place then. We'll drop by a bakery and pick up Tomoyo's mother's favorite cake, as a thank you."

"Sonomi won't eat it, you know. She has thrown out every cake you've given her." _Someone_ has to tell him the truth.

I think there's something in my eyes, or it's about time that I need to see my optometrist, because I see a mischievous glint in my father's eyes as he smiles and says, "I know."

O—o—x—o—O

After my father drops me off at Tomoyo's place, the very first thing I have to do is stop Sonomi from throwing my father's cake into the trash bin. I tell her it's a very essential part of my plan.

"What plan?" she asks.

"It's a matter of life and death," I tell her. "My love life depends on this cake! I know the cake is a symbolic representation of my father and you want nothing more than to chuck him into the garbage, and I hate to ruin your fun, but may I please have the cake? For my love life?"

"Please give it to her before she goes all theatrical on us," says Tomoyo. "What plan, Sakura?"

"He didn't _have_ to make sure that I was warm and dry," I say to her. "Don't you think I should thank him, and what better way to show gratitude than to show up with a cake?"

"_Who_ are we talking about?" Sonomi asks; going from 'cool' mom mode to 'mother hen'. "And what's this about being _dry_? How did you get sick, Sakura?"

"Oh…um…I didn't want to tell Otousan and Touya, because you know how they are, but I got sick from getting myself soaked…I was playing with water guns with some friends." I can see Tomoyo trying to hold back her snickers as I'm telling my story.

Sonomi looks at me reproachingly. "Water guns in this weather, Sakura?"

"See? That's why I didn't want to tell anyone!"

"Try not to do it again. And who is this 'he' you mentioned?"

"This guy I'm crushing on," I say, trying to keep it as simple as possible.

But Tomoyo has to butt in and adds, "An _older_ guy."

"Older? How much older?"

"Um…not very much older. He has just started school here." Not a lie.

"Oh. So he goes to your school?"

"He goes to Tomoeda." See how I'm not saying 'yes' or 'no' to her question? And Syaoran does indeed attend Tomoeda—Tomoeda University, not Tomoeda High. It's not my fault if Sonomi infers the latter from my answer.

"Well, I would love to meet him some day," Sonomi says with a smile. "And I'm here to help any time."

"Can you not mention this to Otousan or Touya? They're going to freak out. Or at least Touya will."

"I understand how you feel. Now, do you need a ride to go see this—what's his name?"

Dang. Did not anticipate that question.

"Li," Tomoyo answers for me. "His name is Li. He's from Hong Kong—like that actor Sakura likes so much? That's why she's crushing on him. Poor guy doesn't even know he's a substitute for another man."

I see what Tomoyo is doing there—she's poking fun of my reasoning for liking Syaoran in the first place and making sure I know it. I stick my tongue at her.

"And we'll take a cab instead if it's okay with you," I say to Sonomi.

"Why?"

Tomoyo actually rolls her eyes at her mother. "Mom, you're going to want to stare and ask him questions. You'll scare him away."

"I will do no such thing!"

"Can you cross your heart and hope to die that you won't look at him—not even for a second—or ask him questions about his family's medical history, his five-year plan, his religion, his likes and dislikes?"

"I only did it that _one_ time," says Sonomi.

"And have you seen me bring home another boy?" I have to hand it to Tomoyo. The girl knows how to make her case. And win.

Sonomi clucks her tongue. "My wallet is in my workbag upstairs," she reluctantly says to Tomoyo. "Take small bills for cab fare. Your credit card should also be in my wallet. Take it with you. Make sure your cell phone is fully charged before you go."

See? Told you she's the coolest mom ever.

O—o—x—o—O

"Do you think he'll want to see me? I mean, he didn't even bother to look at me when I was leaving last time," I say to Tomoyo as we're entering the building.

"If I were in his shoes, I'd be embarrassed too. You _giggled,_ Sakura."

"Is that bad?"

Tomoyo sighs. "Forget it."

As we approach the front desk, the same assistant as last time says to me, "Your brother isn't here."

"Oh, I'm not here to visit him this time," I say. "Is Li Syaoran in?"

I swear he has just cringed. "No one by that name lives here."

Tomoyo whispers to me, "Do you think he has moved out?"

That can't be possible, because Touya is _still_ living at home.

Turning to the desk assistant, I ask, "Is Hiiragizawa Eriol here?"

The boy takes out a thick notebook, looks through it, and then picks up the phone to dial a number. He waits for a few seconds before saying, "Hiiragizawa? You have a guest in the lobby. Who? Er…Touya's sister."

After hanging up he tells us to have a seat and wait.

Eriol doesn't take long to come down. Judging from the look on his face, I think he's very confused as why I'd want to see him.

"I'm so glad to see you!" I say as soon as he comes closer. "I wasn't sure if you were even going to be in today, but I wanted to make the trip anyway. I want to thank you for last time. You and Syaoran saved me from a horrible death. I only caught a cold afterwards and I felt like I almost died, so imagine if I had gone all the way home soaked to my bones!"

"I hope you are feeling better," he says politely.

"Much better," I say, and hold out the box in my hands. "This is for you and Syaoran. It's a chocolate ganache cake."

"Thank you. You really didn't have to go through the trouble."

"It's no trouble at all. Oh! This is my friend, Tomoyo. Tomoyo, this is Eriol." The two greet each other with polite Hello's and How-do-you-do's. "Is Syaoran in?" I ask. "I'd like to thank him personally as well."

"Ah, yes, he's upstairs. Would you like to come up?'

"Yes!"

Tomoyo tugs my arm as if saying, 'Ease up on the enthusiasm.'

Yup. Very wise decision to bring Tomoyo along. And I can't help but notice the way Tomoyo looks at Eriol when she thinks no one's attention is on her. I almost want to blurt out, 'Seriously, Tomoyo? You'd pick a bookworm over _my_ Syaoran?'

I know everyone has different tastes and preferences, but still, I don't understand how Tomoyo can say Syaoran isn't her cup of tea but _Eriol_ is. And she doesn't need to say that he is, I can tell from the look in her eyes. Tomoyo has only ever looked at one other thing with that same longing look: _clothes_.

That says a lot.

We follow Eriol upstairs while making small talk along the way. Well, more like Tomoyo and Eriol are doing the talking. I'm thinking about what to say Syaoran when I see him.

As Eriol opens the door to his room, I put on my biggest, brightest, and prettiest smile. That smile quickly disappears into a confused frown.

There's a black-haired girl on Syaoran's bed—the same bed _I_ have recently occupied a mere two weeks ago—and she's holding onto his arm while her head is resting on his shoulder. They're reading a magazine together?! _I_ want to read a magazine with Syaoran while holding his arm and resting my head on his shoulder!

"Sakura brought us a cake," Eriol says to Syaoran.

"I was wondering where you've been," my love says with a lopsided grin. "I haven't seen you on campus lately."

Tomoyo, who is standing beside me, groans and mutters under her breath, "_Oh God please stop encouraging her_."

I glare at her.

"I caught a cold," I explain. "I'm sorry. Had I known your girlfriend was here, I would not have intruded."

See what I did there? Maybe I _am_ a genius…

The girl snorts. "Me? This guy's girlfriend? He wishes!"

"I certainly do not," Syaoran says, his tone serious. "It'll be wrong on so many levels."

The girl slaps his arm. "You're wrong on so many levels!"

"Did you not get the memo? I'm right in every way." Syaoran flashes her a smile I have never ever seen on him before. It's like…_flirtatious_. So that leaves out the maybe-she's-his-relative notion.

"You're so full of it." The girl gets off the bed and comes toward us. She examines me from head to toe very briefly. "You are _tall_!"

"She comes from a family of giraffes," comments Tomoyo, unnecessarily. "Hi, I'm Tomoyo and this is Sakura. You are?"

"Li Meiling," the girl answers. "Childhood friend of that egoist over there. I'm visiting for a couple of weeks."

"Oh really? That's really cool. So where are you from?"

"Hong Kong. Are you by any chance related to Daidouji Sonomi?"

"You know my mother?"

Meiling screams excitedly. "I wish! I _love_ her clothes! I remember seeing you on a magazine with your mother."

At this point, I am extremely grateful I have brought Tomoyo along with me today, because she's handling this Meiling girl very well while my brain is still trying to process the newfound information, which is: there's a girl in Li Syaoran's life, and it's not me. So what if she isn't his girlfriend? Doesn't mean she can't become one, and if what that scene from earlier says anything, it's that Syaoran certainly wouldn't mind making Li Meiling his girlfriend. Besides, you hear stories of childhood friends falling in love with each other _all_ the time!

Think, Sakura, think! What can you do?

The girl is probably here to visit Syaoran and spend time with him. I just need to keep them from spending _too_ much alone time and developing something that's more than just childhood friends. But what can I do? I can't always include myself in their moments together.

…but I can include Meiling in _my_ moments and keep them apart. Sakura, you are brilliant.

"Do you have any plans for your visit, Meiling?" I ask casually.

She shrugs slightly. "I honestly haven't planned anything."

"Really? Tomoyo and I would love to show you around!" Tomoyo looks at me as if I've just grown another head. "Were you counting on Syaoran to show you around? I highly advise against that, unless you want to be mobbed and lynched by fangirls everywhere you go."

"That is true," says Syaoran. "But not to that degree. I hope."

Meiling turns to ask Tomoyo with much zeal, "Do you think I could meet your mother?"

I beg Tomoyo with my eyes to say yes.

"I don't see why not," says Tomoyo. God, I love that girl.

"Are you busy? If not you can meet Sonomi today!" I don't want to leave this place knowing that Syaoran is here with her.

"We actually—" Syaoran starts to say but is cut off by Meiling.

"I'm always free for Daidouji Sonomi!"

Syaoran does not look pleased. Yay! Victory for Sakura!

"Let's go right now!" Meiling exclaims. She grabs Tomoyo's and my arm and drags us out before we can even exchange goodbyes.

Tomoyo glowers at me. I think it's because she was hoping to spend some more time with Eriol. "You're treading on thin ice, Sakura," she mutters to me.

"I'll be your model for the next catalogue to make up for it."

She instantly smiles at that.

Sonomi features some of Tomoyo's own designs in her seasonal catalogues, and Tomoyo has been begging me for the longest time to model her clothes for the catalogues but I've always strongly refused. I love modeling her clothes—don't get me wrong, I do it all the time—I just don't like modeling her clothes in front of a camera.

"Meiling, where are you staying at the moment?" Tomoyo asks the other girl with a predatory grin on her face.

_Oh no_…what have I gotten myself into?

O—o—x—o—O

So Tomoyo didn't manage to get Meiling to stay with the Daidouji for the girl's entire visit. But Meiling is more than happy to come over and spend every waking hour of the day with Sonomi, who is very flattered by the girl's adoration. It's a win-win situation for everybody! Okay, maybe not for myself.

The price I have to pay for Tomoyo's quote-unquote _help_? Model for the spring _and_ summer catalogues.

Sure, I'm happy that Tomoyo is keeping Meiling away from Syaoran like ninety-nine percent of the time (the girl is too busy to even _think_ of him), but gosh…she didn't have to be so cut-throat about it. One catalogue is enough to make me suffer; two will send me to an early grave.

And my plan to keep Meiling away from Syaoran sort of backfires on me a little bit.

"Oh no! You are not going to dump her on me," says Tomoyo on our walk back to her place from school; after I've asked her to keep Meiling busy so I can go see Syaoran.

"Come on, Tomoyo! I haven't seen him at all this week. I'm starting to forget what he looks like!"

She rolls her eyes. "As if that could ever happen. You have a huge poster of him hanging on your ceiling, another one on the wall, and one more on your door. And it will cost you, my lovely Sakura."

"…what's the price?"

"All of next year's catalogues—spring, summer, fall, _and _winter."

Tomoyo is evil. Pure evil.

"Fine," I say.

"Sakura, can I ask you something frankly?" I nod my head for her to continue. "Why are you trying so hard? I know you're a very sensible girl when it comes to non-Syaoran related things. You can't truly believe that something will come out of all of this."

"He who leaps for the sky may fall, it's true. But he may also fly," I say. "Delirium by Lauren Oliver."

"I give up. Your optimism is too much for me."

"So I noticed the way you were looking at Eriol," I remark coolly.

"Oh it's nothing. Unlike you, I don't have as much hope that anything will come out of me crushing on him, so I've given up. I have neither the tenacity nor energy that you do to chase after him. I really admire you by the way."

"I don't know if I should feel flattered or insulted by your comment."

"Perhaps a little of both." I give her a little push to make my point. She laughs while trying to regain her balance and asks me, "Are you going to give him a present?"

"Hm, for what?"

"You do realize we have finals next week, right? Christmas is the week after."

"Oh Tomoyo, I would've forgotten if you didn't remind me! I have to go see him now!"

Tomoyo, being the sweetest friend in the world, says, "I'll keep you-know-who out of your hair."

"You're the best!"

O—o—x—o—O

It doesn't take me a very long time to find Syaoran on campus. I just have to figure out the areas in which large number of girls have amassed and simply look elsewhere. When you factor in the size of campus and how many female students are avidly on the hunt, there aren't that many good hiding places; in fact, if my deduction is correct, Syaoran can only be in two places. If he's not in his dorm (which he isn't, because I've checked), then there's only one other place that can _guarantee_ him privacy (not to mention haven): Touya's infamous anthropology section.

I base my theory on the well-known fact that Touya is always napping there and no one—I repeat, _no one_, not even gaga crazy fangirls—is stupid enough to risk disturbing the sleeping lion.

"Why did you decide to come here?" I ask him as we sit on the floor across from each other. "You must've realized a small college like Tomoeda cannot possibly hide you. It takes half an hour to walk this entire campus."

"Does it really? I've always thought it was kind of big."

That's probably because he has literally no sense of directions and so he's always going in circles.

"When do you get out of the dorms?"

"By Christmas, hopefully."

"Are you doing anything for the holiday?"

"Mostly work. You?"

"That depends on how I do on my math final."

"Why math?"

"Mathematics is the only thing my brain can't absorb."

"I'm afraid I'll have to spread around campus that you aren't a genius after all."

"Because geniuses are good at math, and math makes the Earth go round?"

"No." He looks at me mischievously and, half smiling, he beckons me to lean closer with his index finger. When we're ear-to-ear, he whispers, "Because geniuses figure how to cheat."

He laughs at my reaction. "You want me to teach you some tricks?"

"What! No!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

He laughs again. I can get used to hearing the sound of his laugh. It's certainly the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

He then asks, "Is Meiling having fun at your friend's place?"

"Um…yeah. I'm not exaggerating when I say she is like Sonomi's shadow. Are you disappointed that you don't get to spend as much time with her?"

He looks at me for a good bit, longer than unusual; as if he's trying to make up his mind on something about me.

"At first," he answers earnestly. "But it's probably best if we don't spend so much time together."

"You…um…you like her?"

"Are you going to tell the media?" he jokingly asks me. Seeing that I am neither laughing nor smiling, he continues, "Not exactly. Rather than saying that I like her, it's more accurate to say I have this lingering _feeling_."

"If love doesn't come first and linger after, if love can't wait and endure disappointment and separation, then it's not love."

I'm not sure if he's looking at me with astonishment or perplexity, but his mouth hangs open for a few seconds.

"It's a quote from a book," I explain to him. "Golden Fool by Robin Hobb."

"I see."

"I love to read," I tell him, feeling the need to explain my 'oddity'. "Especially romance novels. My favorite romance novel of all time is Pride and Prejudice. I know the book by heart."

One of Syaoran's eyebrows rises ever so elegantly. "Is _that_ why you're my fan? Let me guess, you sigh and swoon whenever you think of the Darcy fellow."

"Perhaps," I admit shamefully, but I don't tell him that I sigh and swoon in tenfold whenever I think of _him_. "I love your other works too! How did you get the role of Mr. Darcy by the way?"

"Getting the role was supposed to be my punishment. The show's director, who is friends with my agent, came to him hoping to find a few people from our agency to cast in the show. Then the asshole president of my agency, remembering that I was in my high school play, kindly volunteered my service, because I did something to tick him off."

Oh… the more I find out, the more disappointed I am by the fact it was a horrible experience for him. The role doesn't mean anything to him. While it means so much to me.

"Have you read Pride and Prejudice?" I ask him.

"I did," he says. Sweet! He has redeemed himself in my eyes. "My agent made me for the show. I don't get why it's considered one of the greatest romance novels of all time—what's so romantic about it? What it boils down to is she married him for his money."

I let out an indignant scoff. "She did not marry him just for his money! She came to _like_ him after setting aside her prejudice. Certainly, she saw his wealth as impressive, but if she'd wanted to marry him solely for his money, she would've been propelled to accept his first proposal. You, sir, _clearly_ did not read the book well!"

"_Sir_?" Syaoran looks at me with mocked amusement.

I don't very much like this Syaoran that is before me.

I do not know this Syaoran. He isn't the charming and funny Syaoran that I know.

And it is at this point that I have to pause and say to myself—I do not really know Syaoran at all.

"Sakura, you okay?" Syaoran asks. "Did I offend you? Sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you with my comment."

Yes, he did.

He then asks, "What else do you like to read?"

Ever since meeting him, I've been under the impression that Syaoran is exactly how I've imagined him to be, but I have not stopped to consider that how I imagine him to be isn't how he is at all.

O—o—x—o—O

"Meiling, what is Syaoran like?" I've decided to go to the person I think knows Syaoran best—not to mention she also knows him the longest.

The older girl looks up from her notepad. Ever since Sonomi promised to create an outfit for Meiling if the girl comes up with the design, she has been wracking her brain to come up with something. Meiling taps the pencil against her cheek. "Syaoran? I don't know how to answer the question to be honest. To me, Syaoran has always been, well, _Syaoran_. So I can only tell you that Syaoran is exactly like Syaoran."

That doesn't help me one bit.

"What was he like before he became famous?"

She grins then. "_Oh_, I see. You meant to ask what he's like when there aren't cameras and reporters around. You should know. You've known him for a good bit."

"I guess I should count myself very lucky that not only does he remember my name, he has spoken to me more than once."

"But?"

"I think he treats me with professionalism because I'm a fan. I think he's only keeping up his public image around me."

She puts down her pen and says, "Why don't _you_ tell me what you think Li Syaoran is like?"

"I have always thought that he's very charming," I start saying. "He has a kind of charisma that can't be explained. Not to mention he looks like Adonis. He can be very humble and down to earth, and he smiles all the time. His smile is his best feature, I think. He is funny, nice, caring, sensitive, and it's freaking adorable how he gets bashful whenever someone asks him about his love life or teases him about girls in general."

The other girl suddenly laughs uncontrollably. "Oh my."

"Did I say something funny?"

"Oh, honey, everything you said was hilarious!"

"What do you mean?"

Meiling wipes the corners of her eyes.

"Sakura, I think you're a really sweet girl. A darling really," she says, "and I'd be such a terrible person if I don't point out the error in your thinking. First of all, Syaoran is anything but _down to earth_. He is an egoist and a womanizer, and can be a tad bit sarcastic. Syaoran certainly has his bad qualities, but what person doesn't have bad qualities, right?" And she continues, "He's a mighty loyal friend. I thought for sure that fame would change him. Yet he's still the same old Syaoran that I know, to which I am glad."

"Then everything I thought I knew about him is untrue?"

"Not exactly. To some degree, what you see _is_ Syaoran, but you're seeing a more…polished version. Does that make sense?"

"How can I get him to show me his unpolished side?"

"Approach him as you would an ordinary person. Don't be his fan. Once you say the F-word, you're looking at a very well trained actor."

"Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"How are you _not_ in love with him? I know you told me he's not perfect, but he sure is close to perfection. And even if he isn't perfect, I'm sure he's a wonderful guy—if not wonderful to look at."

Meiling shrugs, smiling. "I've never looked at Syaoran that way. Using his own words, the very thought itself is wrong on so many levels. Besides, as good a friend as Syaoran is to me, I pity the girl who actually falls in love with him."

I can't help feeling like these are Meiling's words of warning.

"What do think of this dress?" she asks, showing me her notepad.

"She's testing you," I tell her.

"What?"

"Sonomi rarely promises to make anyone _anything_. She sees something in you, and she's testing to see if you have what it takes. I mean that's a very pretty dress…"

"But it won't be enough to wow her."

"Well, Sonomi is very hard to please."

"Tell me about it. I've been wondering how Tomoyo does it, what with her own mother being her worst critic. I think Tomoyo's designs are _spectacular_ but, as we're speaking, Sonomi is upstairs ripping each and every one of her designs up into tiny little pieces."

"Sonomi wants Tomoyo to work extra hard for her success so that when ignorant, no-talent, green-eyed _cows_ accuse Tomoyo of riding on her mother's coattail, Tomoyo can proudly raise her head high knowing that her success is earned."

"Sounds like you know some of these cows?"

"Tomoyo was home schooled for a little while in junior high. Before that she was well liked by everyone and all the boys admired her left and right, you know. Then the most popular boy in school asked her out; though the relationship didn't last very long."

"Young love tends to be like that."

"That is true, but in this situation it was because Sonomi scared the guy. Then out of nowhere these nasty rumors about Tomoyo started spreading around the school; something about Tomoyo doing _things_ with guys, how she uses her mother's fame to buy guys' attractions, and all those things. The ex-boyfriend even admitted to only asking Tomoyo out because his mother had asked him to so she could get a chance to meet Sonomi."

Now that I think about it…Tomoyo and I used to gush over hot guys all the time, but nowadays she won't bat an eye even if Adonis himself throws himself at her feet. I've always thought it's because, unlike myself, she has grown up and is more mature I am.

I've never stopped to consider her manner to be a consequence of what has happened to her in the past. Ugh! I am so thoughtless.

At least her attraction to Eriol makes sense to me now.

"What is Eriol like?" I ask Meiling. "Is he a nice guy? How old is he? What is he studying? Is he seeing anyone?"

A slender brow rises slightly. "You don't _like_ Eriol, do you?"

"No. It's just, I've met him a few times but I don't know anything other than his name. It seems a bit rude of me, doesn't it?"

"I can't help you there. I don't know him all that well either," says the other girl. "I merely know Eriol as Syaoran's kohai from high school. You see, I've only been to Tomoeda a couple of times since Syaoran moved here from Hong Kong, and usually during summer vacation too. I've seen Eriol, perhaps, twice in the five years that I know him, not including this time. But, yes, I would say that he is a nice guy and as far as I know, he isn't seeing anyone at the moment. And I believe he is a freshman this year."

That's great! Tomoyo won't think he's too old! Now I just need to get Eriol and Tomoyo together…somehow. Or at least create an opportunity for the two to get to know each other. Tomoyo wishes she has my tenacity; well, she forgets that I'm tenacious enough for the both of us.

In the end, Meiling decides to go with a very simple, yet elegant winter coat. "I love fashion more than anything, but I think I'll enjoy becoming a teacher more," she says when I ask her why she's not using the opportunity to her advantage. "Although I hate that I'm wasting Sonomi's generosity, I can already see my mother going into epileptic shock when she finds out her Christmas present is one of a kind and made by _the_ Daidouji Sonomi."

Oh crap! Speaking of Christmas—I completely forgot to ask Syaoran what's on his wish list.

"I'm so very glad to have met you and Tomoyo," continues Meiling. "We're going to have to keep in touch one way or another after I go back home."

"When are you leaving?"

"Monday," she answers.

"So soon?!" I am actually sad to see her go (now that I don't have to worry about her being my love rival).

"I don't look forward to leaving either. This visit has been so much better than I would've imagined! I'll certainly miss you girls."

"It sucks that we have to study for finals and can't hang out with you this weekend before you have to leave."

Meiling chuckles. "I do not miss those days at all. Too bad you and Tomoyo can't come to my farewell party Saturday night."

Farewell party? No doubt Syaoran will be there.

"We would love to come! I'm sure we can afford to take a night off from studying."

"Really? Great! Takashi's girlfriend is throwing a Christmas party and the guys thought of making it my farewell party too. It should be fun. I think it'll be a relatively small get together."

I can't wait!

O—o—x—o—O

"No," says Tomoyo, come Saturday morning.

When I told her about the party the other day, Tomoyo made it clear that she wasn't going to go.

"I'm not asking you for permission Tomoyo," I say into the phone, irritation dripping from my voice. "I'm simply telling you my plan." Which is to leave my house around six with the excuse of going to Tomoyo's place to study for my math exam. I can get ready and leave from the Daidouji residence. Simple as that!

"And I'm telling you again that your plan won't work. What will you tell my mother?"

"That I'm going to Meiling's farewell party?"

"She won't let you go to a college party."

"But it's Meiling's _farewell_ party!"

"Still going to be a no."

"Well, I can sneak out with your help…" Tomoyo has also made it clear that she's not going to partake in my scheme. "_Please_, Tomoyo?"

"It's not that I don't want to help you, Sakura," Tomoyo says. "You know I've always went along with you no matter how crazy your ideas are, but this…this idea of yours isn't crazy—it's _stupid_. For all you know, there could be alcohol and drugs at this party."

"Meiling will be here. And Syaoran! Takashi's girlfriend is throwing the party, so Takashi will be there too. I think Eriol will also be there. They're all good people, Tomoyo."

Tomoyo sighs exasperatedly on the other line. "I'm not saying they aren't good people. I'm merely pointing out the things you don't stop to consider. You can't always do whatever the heck you please without first considering the consequences, Sakura. And don't you think you should be studying instead?"

"I'll have all day tomorrow to study!"

"There's no stopping you, is there?"

"I'm afraid not."

O—o—x—o—O

Tomoyo eventually gives in. She helps me pick out an outfit for the party and fixes my hair and makeup.

"Don't you think this is too much?" I ask while looking at myself in the mirror. Tomoyo has put extensions into my hair and curled the ends; I don't even recognize the girl staring right back at me with her cherry red lips and thick, long false eyelashes. She also wears a Santa costume that hugs her body like a second skin, showing curves I've never noticed before.

"I don't know how college girls dress up for these things, but I'm going to assume there are some accuracy to all those movies we've seen. I'd rather not have you stick out like a sore thumb."

When it's time for me to go, Tomoyo arranges a couple of pillows on her bed to make it look like I'm sleeping.

"I've asked the cab to wait for you across the street in front of the neighbor's place. See if Meiling or her friends can give you a ride back—and call me when you're coming back. My mother should be asleep by then but we can't be too safe."

"You don't have to wait up for me, Tomoyo. I can let myself in—as soon as I can let myself out."

Sneaking out through the window is a lot harder than I've imagined. Well, the going out the window part is pretty easy—it's what comes afterward that is hard.

You'd think walking on the roof can't be any different than walking on the ground, but let me tell you, it is _very_ different. And Tomoyo isn't making the situation any better, what with her oohing and ahing and telling me to watch my step so I don't fall to my death.

Suddenly she yells out, "Be careful going down that pipe!"

"Tomoyo, I appreciate your concern—I really do—but you're forgetting that I'm supposed to be sneaking out as quietly as possible!"

She lowers her voice down a notch. "Sorry!"

I slide down the gutter as quietly as I can—grace be damned. After landing on my feet in one piece, I signal to Tomoyo to throw down my boots and wristlet.

"Promise me you won't take drinks from strangers! Better yet, ask for a bottle of water."

"You worry too much! Meiling said it's going to be a small get together."

O—o—x—o—O

There is nothing, and I repeat, _NOTHING_ small about the party.

I can see a crowd of people in front of the house and hear the unbelievably loud music, and I'm still at least ten houses away. The cab pulls up in front of the house and I get out. As I slowly make my way toward the house, I start to wonder if what I'm doing is such a good idea. I don't know if I'm ready for this… And I don't mean the party.

I don't know if I'm ready to see Syaoran's "unpolished" side.

I mean, during the short walk from the cab to the front door, I've seen three people throwing up on the front lawn, a bunch of half-naked people jumping up and down on top of some cars, a couple (and I'm assuming the best here) sucking each other's faces off, another couple (again, assuming the best of people) doing only God knows what against the big oak tree by the driveway, and—oh my God—is that a _condom_ over the doorknob?

Forget Syaoran. I'm not ready for this party.

The door opens then, and Takashi stares at me momentarily before exclaiming, "No…freaking…way. I know those green eyes anywhere!"

"Meiling invited me to her farewell party," I explain to him. "I…um…I wasn't aware it would be such a big party."

"Party crashers. Once they come, you have be willing to break a few noses and knock out some teeth to get them to leave, and I'm not willing." Takashi waves me inside and tells me to follow him. "Meiling is here—somewhere."

"Are Syaoran and Eriol here, too?"

Takashi merely grins. I don't quite understand what he means by that, and before I can question him, a girl with short brown hair approaches him. "Takashi, who's your guest?" she asks while looking at me; rather defensively, too.

"Sakura, this is my girlfriend. Chiharu, this is Sakura—Touya's little sister. She's here for Meiling's farewell party."

Takashi's girlfriend rolls her eyes and says, "I don't even know whose party this is anymore. I swear, I don't know half of the people here. But you're really Touya's little sister?"

"Yes…unfortunately."

"Does he know you're here? Forget I even asked. Of course he doesn't."

"What he doesn't know won't kill him," says Takashi. "But just to be on the safe side, don't tell anyone your full name. There aren't that many Kinomoto in Tomoeda."

"Here. Let me take your coat," says Chiharu.

I thank her for her kindness and shrug off my coat.

Takashi yells for me to put my coat back on. "You are not to take the coat off. Do I make myself clear, Sakura?"

I've never seen Takashi like this before. He is always smiling or flirting, it's weird to suddenly see him all serious.

"Takashi, the poor girl is going to melt to death," says Chiharu.

"The coat stays on. I'm too busy running around and making sure no one burns down the house to keep an eye on her—unless you're up to the task of dealing with Touya, I suggest you find Meiling, Eriol or Syaoran to take her home," Takashi says to Chiharu.

"I thought you said I could stay!" I protest.

"That was before I saw what you're wearing."

"I was told this would be a Christmas party," I say.

Chiharu comes to my defense. "And I absolutely love your dress. Don't mind Takashi. If you look around and see what half of these other girls are wearing—you'd think Santa's little helpers help out in more ways than one."

Takashi grimaces at his girlfriend's words. "Chiharu, she doesn't need to hear things like that."

"Oh, stop it, Takashi. She already has one overprotective brother, she doesn't need another one." Takashi looks like he's about to protest further, but Chiharu stops him with an empathic gesture. "I'll take your coat, Sakura."

I smile at Takashi apologetically as I hand Chiharu my coat. I refuse to melt to death.

"Fine. But this—" Takashi says to Chiharu while pointing at me dramatically. "—this is on you if Touya finds out."

And he quickly runs after someone who has gone up to the second floor, an area off-limits to party guests according to the crime scene tape and 'no trespassing' sign hanging on the staircase.

"I have to round up drunkards and kick them out," says Chiharu, "so just mingle and enjoy yourself. Don't talk to strange guys and you should be fine."

"Do you know where Meiling is?" I ask.

"I last saw her in the basement." She shows me to the staircase leading downstairs. "If you can't find her anywhere then she's probably upstairs in my room—second door to the left. You want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm good, thank you though."

Before walking away, Chiharu looks at me with a slight arch of her left eyebrow and giggles, leaving me somewhat confused. It almost seems like the girl is laughing at some sort of inside joke, like she knows something I don't. Chiharu reminds me of these girls I knew and loathed very much in middle school; the group of girls who still today are on my 'I-want-their-heads-on-a-platter' list; the very same group of girls who started those stupid rumors about Tomoyo.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that I don't like Chiharu. She seems very likeable, and she hasn't said or done anything that has in any way offended me. She just reminds me of people I don't particularly like.

As I start for the basement, I catch a few glances directed my way, a spark of fazing interest from one or two of the guys I walk pass. Tomoyo would be happy to know that I'm not sticking out like a sore thumb; instead, I'm like a piece of meat.

I make sure to stay clear of all guys in my path and hurry down the stairs.

I look high and low, but I don't see Meiling anywhere. Or Syaoran for that matter. So I try to look for Meiling upstairs in Chiharu's room—but I find Syaoran instead. He's lying on Chiharu's bed with an arm over his head. I call out his name, but he doesn't reply.

I should really leave, I tell myself.

I shouldn't be alone in a bedroom with him. If someone catches us, it could become a terrible misunderstanding… And yet, for some reason, my body refuses to listen to my mind. I find myself stepping into the room and closing the door gently behind me. I'm not going to do anything—gosh! I only want to watch him sleep. Is that like a crime?

I swear, this man is perfect in every detail, and he's like an angel in his sleep. Careful not to stir him from his slumber, I kneel beside the bed and trace a finger slowly along his jaw. My heart is racing just from looking at him so close up. He looks so peaceful, so content. So vulnerable.

His eyebrows suddenly furrow together and his lips curve into a slight frown.

"What are you dreaming about?" I ponder in a whisper. Gently, I rub the area between his eyebrows, smoothing away the wrinkles on his otherwise handsome face. Then my eyes fall on his lips, and it takes every ounce of control I have to refrain myself from leaning over and kissing him.

Oh dear… I can feel my control slipping away with every second that passes.

What harm can one little kiss do? Besides, if it's an extremely quick peck on the lips, it won't even feel like a kiss! Not to mention that he's fast asleep. If he doesn't know that he's been kissed, then is it still a kiss?

Okay, fine, I admit my logic is flawed. But to hell with it—

I want to know what it feels like to have his lips against mine. I bet it's the most amazing feeling in the world. First kisses are always so wonderful in novels; so soft and sweet; so magical that no amount of words can capture the essence of what it is.

And my first kiss is exactly that. Indescribable.

Like, _literally_, I have no words to describe it, because I don't feel anything. I mean, here I am, kissing Li Syaoran—LI _freaking_ SYAORAN, number 42 on Japan's 100 Sexiest Men—and I don't feel anything. What is wrong with me?! Why am I not feeling butterflies fluttering inside of me or sparks of fireworks going off everywhere?

I think I may have a defective libido.

My train of thoughts is disrupted when a hand suddenly cradles the back of my head, and I find my lips once again pressed against Syaoran's. Only this time, the pair of lips underneath mine is very much awake.

Then suddenly, I'm no longer kneeling on the floor, but lying face down on the bed with Syaoran on top of me. "And who do we have here?" he asks, his voice husky and rich with desire (or sleep).

"S-Syaoran, it's me," I say.

There's a short pause before he speaks again. "_Sakura_?"

"Yes."

With lightning speed, he hops off the bed. "What are you doing here, Sakura!?" He's pacing the room now.

"Meiling invited me to her farewell party…" I answer quietly. "I was looking for Meiling."

Turning around, he starts to say, "That doesn't explain what you were—" He suddenly stops. His eyes widen in shock, then horror, and finally something else I can't seem to comprehend. "_What_ are you wearing?"

"A Santa costume."

"Your father let you out of the house looking like that?" he asks. And I'm sure my face says it all. "I should have known as much."

"…I'm sorry for waking you…I didn't mean to."

"You think that's the problem here—you waking me?"

"No?"

Syaoran runs a hand through his hair and exhales, frustration evident in his demeanor and tone. "What were you thinking, Sakura? Of course you weren't thinking, or we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You shouldn't even be here—you should already be tucked into bed at this hour."

"I'm not a child," I say, scowling.

"No, but you are a minor," he says. "Shit, Sakura! Do you not realize what a huge scandal that—whatever the hell _that_ was—could've caused to both your future and my career?"

I only wanted to know what it feels to kiss you.

I don't realize I've voiced my thought aloud until Syaoran says, "_In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed_."

O—o—x—o—O

Present

O—o—x—o—O

And so, that's how I got to where I am now.

I swear, if this guy leans his face any closer to mine, I might just have to break his nose. I take self-defense lessons from Touya so I know I can take on this guy. The punch certainly won't knock him out but it will detain him long enough and allow me to gain some distance. I haul back and curl my fist, just about ready to take a hard swing at his face when another arm wraps around my waist and pulls me away before I can attack.

It's Syaoran, and he looks utterly dashing coming to my rescue like a white knight from some fairy tale.

He shoves the other guy away with ease and leads me away by the hand.

I love the feel of my hand in his. I wonder if Syaoran is feeling the same tingling sensation of excitement and nerves, butterflies in my stomach, as I am. Well, at least now I know I don't have a defective libido; nor do I have somnophilia—thank God.

"Walk faster," he says once we're out of the house and making our way through the extremely packed front lawn to a car parked on the side of the street.

We stand on the sidewalk in complete silence—save for my teeth chattering. Syaoran mutters something under his breath. I can only make out the words 'girls' and 'troublesome' before his jacket is thrown in my face.

"I left my coat in the house," I tell him. "I'll just go and get it real fast."

"Forget it," he says. "Here comes Eriol."

Eriol is running towards us. "Let's go," he says unlocking the car and getting into the driver's seat.

Syaoran gets into the front passenger seat and I sit in the back. Syaoran's jacket is still in my possession so I slip into it to keep myself warm. Although I'm still shivering from the cold air, my teeth have stopped chattering.

"The heat will come on soon," says Eriol as the car jerks into motion. "What's your address, Sakura?"

I start to give him Tomoyo's address when Syaoran suddenly cuts me off by saying, "Take us to my place."

Eriol takes his eyes off the road to look at Syaoran. "What?" Oh good, I'm not the only one who is confused.

Syaoran repeats himself.

"Why?" asks Eriol.

"Just do it, Eriol."

I see Eriol looking at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes reflecting both concern and uncertainty, but he doesn't say anything else after that. I look outside the window, not recognizing any of the landmarks. I'm not exactly sure if I have been to this part of the city before; all the streets look the same this time of night, and most businesses are closed already so all I see is darkness.

"I should really go home now," I say quietly. "It's late, and I think Tomoyo is waiting up for me."

"You're already out this late. What's another hour or two, right?" Syaoran eyes me over his left shoulder. He looks positively scary in the dim light, but it is the tone of his words that has left me feeling uneasy and somewhat afraid.

I tell myself that everything will be okay. Both Syaoran and Eriol are good people, nothing bad will happen to me.

Besides, I'm sure Syaoran just wants to finish the conversation we had back in Chiharu's room. Wait. What if he asks why I wanted to kiss him? I haven't planned on telling him my feelings so soon. I was going to wait for when we've gotten to know each other better—heck, I have barely executed my plan to make him fall in love with me! Not that I have a solid plan laid out or anything; but I'm sure if I _did_ have one, it would've been foolproof.

Eventually the three of us arrive at an upscale looking apartment complex and Syaoran hands Eriol some sort of card to swipe at the gated entrance. Syaoran is the first one to get out. He then opens the door for me and offers a hand to help me get out of the car. I stare at his hand momentarily, then slowly cast my gaze to his face. I can't tell what he's thinking

"C'mon," he says.

I accept his hand and step out of the car. Once again, Syaoran leads me by the hand—except he isn't dragging me after him like a misbehaved child this time.

"Shouldn't we wait for Eriol?" I ask.

"No need for that," he says. We stop at the entrance of the building and I turn around to find that Eriol has already driven away.

"Where is he going?"

"He's going back to the party to check on Meiling. Don't worry, we'll call you a cab."

"Ah, I see," I say with relief.

Syaoran holds the door open. "We should get you warmed up first though. Perhaps a hot cup of cocoa?"

Getting out of this cold weather sounds absolutely amazing, but it's the promise of a hot cup of cocoa that seals the deal.

From the entrance, the lobby leads to a large open space that's beautifully lit with artisan lights, and opposite what I think is an information or security desk is a bank of elevators. Syaoran presses the up call button and one of the elevators immediately opens up. We step into the elevator at the same time, and Syaoran promptly taps the button for the fifth floor. As we ascend, I belatedly realize that I do not have my wristlet. I must've left it in Eriol's car. I remember setting it down to put on Syaoran's jacket.

"What's the matter?" Syaoran asks.

"I left my wristlet in Eriol's car," I say.

"I'll let him know."

The elevator comes to a slow stop and the doors slide open. I follow Syaoran down a couple of hallways, and I can't help but wonder if we're even heading in the right direction. He can't be so hopeless that he doesn't even know the way to his own place. A dog can find its way home for goodness sake, so I'm willing to trust Syaoran to not put humanity to shame.

Thankfully, he doesn't disappoint.

He opens the door and ushers me inside with a smile. First warning: Completely undetected.

I'm too overwhelmingly giddy at the thought of being here…Syaoran's place, where he eats, sleeps and, oh gosh, baths…and stuffs. I wonder how many girls he has brought home. Thinking about that brings a sickening feeling to my stomach.

"Make yourself comfortable while I make the cocoa," he says, showing me to the living room.

His apartment is lightly furnished and relatively modest looking. I thought for sure the apartment would match the upscale appearance of the complex, but if I can describe Syaoran's place in one word, it is 'normal'. This is nothing at all like my romance stories; you know, the scene where the girl goes to the guy's place for the first time and she is suddenly overcome by a kind of unexplainable magical feeling. Like when Lizzie goes to Pemberley and she is charmed by the estate's beauty. Or when Bella visits Edward's beautiful Manhattan penthouse suite and comes to the understanding that in all that glory is a very lonely man who has never known love before, and for the first time ever, she sees _him_—not Edward Cullen the arrogant billionaire tycoon by day and brooding vampire by night (obviously I'm not referring to the novel)—but just him. A lonely, beautiful man who needs someone to love him for him.

Syaoran comes back with a cup of cocoa in each hand.

"It is very hot," he says, offering a cup to me. "You might want to let it sit for a little bit."

"Thank you." I set the cup on the coffee table and take a seat on the couch. Syaoran occupies the armchair to my right. I can feel his gaze like a fire grazing over my bare skin. Picking up the cup of cocoa, I start blowing on it and hope it would keep me distracted.

Although… I wonder what's on his mind.

Just as I'm bringing the cup to my lips, my ears pick up the question, "Did you like the kiss?"

I wince as the hot cocoa burns my upper lip.

Syaoran tsked. "I believe my very words were 'it is very hot'. Did you not hear me?"

If he weren't the love of my life, I would be glaring at him and accusing him of surprising me on purpose with that outrageously strange question.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, I'm fine."

"We should treat it anyhow," he says. Before I can assure him that it is just a small burn and I'm perfectly fine, he has already gotten up and left the room.

He comes back very shortly and kneels on the floor in front of me. I notice a small round container in his hand.

"Salve," he explains as he twists the lid open. Dipping a finger in the salve, he gently dab the balm over my lip.

He has no idea what he's doing to me; it's just not fair. I'm sitting here, practically _dying_ from his simplest touch, and he has no idea! Or else he would not be sitting so close to me, where I can smell his scent as if I am bathing in my own. No man should be allowed to smell so good.

"Your lips are very soft," he suddenly says.

Oh, God…he's tracing his thumb over my bottom lip now. I don't dare to look into his eyes, for I know they would suck me in like a whirlpool.

A low chuckle escapes his lips—his absolutely deliciously looking lips. "You haven't answered my question," he says.

"Q-Question?"

He smiles at me. "Did you like the kiss?"

"Erm…"

"Be honest."

If he insists… The first one was kind of disappointing and the second one lasted about a second.

"Well, we can't have that now," he says, as if he can read my expression. "I do have a reputation to uphold."

"What's that?" I ask.

"What's what?"

"Your reputation."

"Would you like to find out?"

Second Warning: Totally ignored.

"I would very much like to know everything about you," I say earnestly. "I mean I already know many things about you, but so do every girl out there. I want to know—"

Words leave me as Syaoran's lips descends onto mine. I believe my eyes may have widened twice its size, and I'm sure it would have given Syaoran quite the scare if he didn't have his eyes closed.

Jesus! Li Syaoran is _kissing_ me. And it feels absolutely wonderful this time around.

I feel like I can literally melt into his arms.

Countless times I have wished, while reading my stories, that the hero would magically pop out of the pages and kiss me in an earth shattering way; this…this is my wish coming true. And it's only our lips that are touching. I'm not ignorant, mind you. I know there is more to kissing—I do read you know.

Syaoran begins to kiss along my jawline, and my toes curl at the sensationally odd feeling raking over my body.

"If I want to do more than chaste kisses," he whispers into my ear, "what will you do?"

He continues, "I'll tell you what. Nothing. You will do nothing. Do you know why? Because you will be stupid enough to let me seduce you. You will fall for smiles and warm words. And why? Because you think you're in love with me when you have no fucking idea what love is."

I want to tell him that I do too know what love is. Love is when you care so much about someone that the air becomes hard to breathe without them but even harder when they're around because they take your very breath away. Love is when you can give up everything for that person, do anything, go anywhere—even to the end of the world, if it means you can be with them. Love is knowing that you're happiest when you're with the person but you're just so God damn happy you _have_ them in your life, you can't possibly ask for more. Because you don't need more. You just need that one person. Love is feeling scared. Scared that you might someday lose them; scared how you could possibly go on without them by your side; scared you will wake up one morning only to realize everything has been a dream.

"I love you. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where."

Syaoran jerk at my words. I don't know if guys are just programmed to run at the mere mention of the word 'love' or what, but it looks like his entire body is alert and ready to jolt any given minute—seriously, should I feel insulted?

I continue before he can tell me I'm being crazy. "I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you—so close that your hand on my chest is my hand; so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"It's a famous sonnet," I tell him. "You say I don't know what love is, and I'm telling you—_that_ is love. So don't tell me I don't know what love is."

"Sakura, you don't. You're fifteen years old—you're a hormonal teenager—you have not experienced love. _I_ have not experienced love."

"I've read plenty about it!" I retort. "And I'm turning sixteen soon for your information."

"And do you claim to love me?"

"Yes!"

He stares at me for a good minute with his eyebrows furrowed together before crossing his arms and says, "Alright. What are you going to do about it?"

His question takes me by surprise. Truthfully, I thought he would tell me I'm unbelievably crazy and he's washing his hands with me.

"What do you mean?"

"So you love me, but I don't feel the same way," he says. "What are you going to do about it? Are you going to give up or try to make me fall for you?"

"Um…the latter."

"Then are you willing to bend over and let me fuck you?" My cheeks color at his words. He goes on to say, "I have no use for girls if they're not spreading their legs and singing my name for God to hear. So you have two choices—" He gently caresses the side of my face. "—Strip or leave."

"Why are you behaving like this?" I ask him.

"If you think I'm bluffing, let me assure you, I am not. Why else would I invite you to my place? If I bend you over and close my eyes, I won't even remember how old you are—hell, I probably won't even think of you until it's over and time for you to leave. And if I'm in a nice mood, I might even give you money for a cab."

I huff at him. "Are you trying to scare—?"

He pulls me toward him, our lips crashing together roughly. Gone are the light kisses; this kiss is the stuff dark dreams are made of.

His tongue invades my mouth in ways my mind can't even begin to grasp, almost as if he's trying to see if he can taste every inch of me. Swirling...flicking…plunging as teeth bites and nips at my lips so painfully slowly. Syaoran holds me firmly against him despite my wiggling and writhing to free myself from his grasp. I want to touch him, and him me, but not like this. Never like this. This is just wrong, oh so wrong. And yet….

No, no, no. Heart, you stay out of this!

I fist my hands and beat against his chest until he finally pulls away and I'm left gasping for air. "Are we going to fuck, or talk all night?" To make his point, he grabs my hips and presses our pelvises together. My dress has risen up quite a bit in the process.

He then slides a hand up and down my thigh, lightly grazing his fingers over my stocking, our skin separated by a mere fabric no thicker than paper. I can feel a bulge beginning to press against my lower body, and I think it's at this exact moment when my brain starts panicking just a little.

A quiet voice says in my head, _No_.

"Never forget this feeling." His voice is low and rough, but I also detect a smooth gentleness to it. "This could have been a hundred times worse... The next time you find yourself in a similar situation, it might be very real and whoever the poor bastard might be, he might not stop. Do you know understand what I'm trying to say?"

I nod my head. A sense of relief quickly washes over my body, and I think Syaoran sees it too because he adds, "You need to get a serious reality check, Sakura. Before you end up hurt. Now, go."

I quickly get up on my feet and tug my dress down to its proper length. Syaoran doesn't look at me, nor does he say another word. He's just sitting on the floor with his head on his knees. I debate whether I should thank him.

"Leave, Sakura."

"Um. I'll return your jacket later."

"Whatever," he mumbles. "Throw it away. Keep it and build a fucking shrine for me. I don't care."

"May I borrow your phone to call for a cab?"

"Eriol is waiting for you out in the hallway."

"What?"

He finally looks up. "Eriol is going to take you home," he says, seeming a little peeved. "Any more questions? No? Good." He makes a shooing motion, and I take that as my cue to leave without another word.

Eriol is indeed waiting in the hallway, just as Syaoran has said. "Hey," he greets me. He pushes his glasses up his nose and continues, "You alright? He didn't scare you too much, did he?"

"I thought you left," I say to him.

"To find parking," he explains. "Come. Let's get you home."

"Are you annoyed with me, too?" I ask as we start walking. "I'm sure Syaoran feels like I've been an annoyance."

I notice that Eriol doesn't even try to tell me I'm wrong. Great. Just great.

"Syaoran is probably blaming himself for allowing you to go this far," he says instead.

"_Allow_?"

"He generally nips fangirl crushes in the bud, but you were amusing. Well, that's what he told me anyway."

I nearly gasp at the piece of information. "So he has been _toying_ with me?"

"No, no. He only wanted to watch and see what you'd do next, that sort of thing. He had no intention of leading you on or encouraging you. But I guess he did accomplish that by doing nothing. Irony is a funny thing."

"Please…just take me home," I say, suddenly feeling very exhausted.

O—o—x—o—O

Eriol drops me off back at Tomoyo's place. I thank him for the ride and he asks me once more if I am alright. I think he wants to make sure that Syaoran has not done anything _unsettling_ toward me; either for my sake or his friend's sake, I'm not entirely sure. He waits until I reach the front door before driving off.

I am able to sneak back into the house undetected. Opening Tomoyo's door, I see that said girl is still awake.

"You weren't waiting for me, were you?" I frown at her.

Tomoyo sits up on the bed and holds up the notebook in her hands. "Studying," she says. But I know her better than that.

"Really, Tomoyo. Why couldn't I have been born a boy? I would marry you in a heartbeat."

She starts giggling but stops almost immediately, her eyes squinting to look at me. "Where is your coat? And whose is that?"

"Oh, I left my coat at the party and Syaoran let me borrow this." I take off the jacket, trying very hard not to take a whiff of Syaoran's lingering scent. My behavior must seem very odd to Tomoyo because she asks if I'm feeling okay. "I'm just tired is all," I reply quietly.

I climb into bed after changing into my night clothes.

"Go wash your make-up off," says Tomoyo.

"Too lazy," I mumble.

"How was the party?"

"Wouldn't know. I was there for like maybe fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes? You were gone for three hours. How far away was this party?"

I don't think I should tell Tomoyo about what happened. She won't see the situation the way that I do; she will only see Syaoran as a total jerk and me the biggest idiot alive. And maybe I am.

I've practically been throwing myself at him now that I think about it.

He called me a—what was it?—_hormonal_ teenager.

_Amusing_… He also thought I was '_amusing_'. I don't know why…but that hurts. Like a lot.

Did he often laugh at me? Did he find my feelings comical?

I may have acted like a fool, but at least I was sincere. But he doesn't think so, he thinks I don't know myself, he thinks I'm delusional.

Is it so unbelievable that what I'm feeling is actually love? Who's to say that it isn't? I would like to speak to the jerkface who took it upon himself or herself to decree that if a fifteen-year-old girl claims she's in love then she's being ridiculous because she's too young to know what love is. I mean, you always hear people say there are all kinds of love in this world, so how come mine isn't considered 'love'?

This world is filled with nothing but hypocrisy.

What's wrong with my love? Is it not good enough?

Is that what it is? That I'm not good enough for Syaoran? I'm too young, too ordinary, too flat-chested, too lanky, and too much to handle (read: crazy)—is that it?

What if I weren't any of those things?

What if I were a little bit older? What if I were someone special—someone grand and spectacular—and what if I have a great body and wasn't so…well, _me_? Would he like me then?

"Sakura?" I hear Tomoyo's soft voice beside me. When I don't reply she lets out a small sigh and shuffles around to turn off the table lamp.

My eyes begin to droop, and I finally succumb to my exhaustion. _Sleep_, I think to myself. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Tomorrow I will become someone he _would_ like.

* * *

«—**to be continued**—»

Dear beloved readers: I swear this is my very last CCS fic. Cross my heart and hope to die lols.

This ridiculously long two-shot is dedicated to my very best friend, Gia—I had to power through fourteen days to write this, I hope it makes you happy, you evil witch. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait a bit for the second half though, because I'm out of juice -sighs-


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